“And you’d be good at it.” Forsythia wanted to hug her sister, but her hands were too dirty.
“Well, let’s get to sod laying, then.” The doctor rolled up his sleeves and winked at Jesse. “Before we get roped in to building a schoolhouse next.”
“The town already has one, silly.” But Forsythia smiled. Something seemed lighter about Adam in recent days. Was it the talk they’d had? Or was God healing his heart?
As for her, she’d known a greater depth of peace since their conversation. Not just over Adam, but over the thief she’d killed. How easy it was sometimes to forget the simple truth of having a Savior. But she was trying hard to remember.
They labored until noon, Lark plowing, Forsythia and Lilac cutting sod bricks, and the doctor and Jesse loading them on the wagon to take over to the house, laying them along the lines Lark had marked on the east side. After stopping for the dinner Del prepared, they all joined in continuing to build the sod walls of the addition.
They laid the bricks end to end lengthwise, then started the next row with half a piece of sod so they could overlap the lay of the bricks, always setting the heavy lengths grass-side down. The walls rose slowly but surely, firm and two feet thick.
“But how do we get in?” Robbie popped out of the main soddy, eager to help. “There’s no door in this wall.”
“It will be a separate room.” Lark paused to wipe her forehead with her wrist, leaving a streak of dirt. She pointed to the soddy wall with no door or window. “We can’t cut a door in that wall without compromising the main house, so we’ll just have another door, right there.” She pointed to the gap with her boot. “But it will provide good storage and a place for a couple of us to sleep. A lot of families build wooden additions instead, since it’s hard to join sod walls. But we don’t have that much lumber yet, and sod is free.”
“It’s free ’cause it’s dirt.” Robbie flung his arms wide. “And we don’t have to pay God for it.”
Laughter rose above the climbing sod.
Robbie studied the growing room. “Our chickens could live in there too.”
Forsythia choked trying to stem her laughter, then gave up. “Oh, Robbie, such a mind you have. But you’re right, we need a house for our chickens too.”
“They can live with Buttercup.” He nodded sagely, a finger against his chin.
The grown-ups all nodded, mostly with faces creased in delighted laughter.
Two days later, Adam and Jesse pounded the wooden planks Lark had bought for the doorframe snug against the sod bricks bordering the door space, and they continued laying sod blocks against them. They nailed another board over the top to complete the frame, then continued laying sod atop it for a couple more rows. Adam climbed onto a ladder to reach the highest part of the wall.
By the time the sun lowered toward supper the next night, the walls of the addition were finished. Weary and thankful, they sat on the grass to survey their handiwork.
“New house!” From Forsythia’s lap, Sofie clapped her tiny hands and beamed.
“A new part of our house anyway.” Forsythia squeezed her close, so thankful for the ease of her little girl’s breathing. Her little girl. When had she started to think of Sofie that way? And not just her, but Robbie and Mikael too.
“I’d call that a good day’s work.” Beside her, Adam stretched his arms, then leaned back on his elbows. “But I think I’ll opt for shipping in timber to get my own house in town built.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you.” Forsythia fought the urge to brush a wayward dark curl off his forehead.
He tipped his head back and smiled at her. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, it’s not like I have patients banging down the door or even at the door.” He rolled his eyes, making the others chuckle.
“The meeting didn’t make a difference?”
“Not yet. But we’ll see.”
He and Jesse declined supper, choosing to drive home to get some rest before they came back to help lay the roof in the morning. Forsythia fought disappointment, focusing on Mikael’s gurgles and coos as she warmed his milk and fed him from the cup Jesse had carved.
Lord, why is my heart tugging toward Adam so much now, just when he has pulled back?
Adam’s back muscles ached as he placed another sod brick atop the closely spaced wooden rafters they had laid across the Nielsens’ soddy addition.
He didn’t mind helping the Nielsens—certainly they had helped him plenty. It was what neighbors did out here on the frontier, and they’d no men of their own, hardy though these women were. And he hoped someday they might be more than friends, even family, despite his telling Forsythia he needed time.
But even with all the manual labor he’d done in recent months, lifting and laying heavy bricks of sod taxed his muscles in entirely new ways. His shoulders felt like they were on fire, and not from the baking sun.
At a distant noise, he glanced down from his perch on the ladder. A wagon came rattling across the prairie, kicking up dust from the trail leading from the north. The horses pulling it were near galloping.
“Jesse,” he called to his nephew, who was helping cut more sod, “can you see who that is?”
Jesse straightened and shaded his eyes. “N-not sure. But they’re in a hurry.”
Adam clambered down the ladder. No one pushed a team like that on a hot day, not without good reason.
The wagon clattered up, and a man jumped down. Anthony Armstead. Adam’s first patient in this town.
“Please, it’s my boy. Carl.” Anthony was gasping for breath as he gestured to the wagon bed. “A rattler got him.”
Adam charged for his buggy, where he always kept his bag ready. “Get me
